Wanderings
by Nemisor
Summary: Two wandering souls wind up in New York to see a dancer.


_A/N: On one hand I am a bit peeved about the fact that I can't deliver fics with the quality I usually do (*insert shaking fist at health here*), but hey at least I got something written. That's gotta count for something, right?_ **  
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 **Wanderings**

Mai wasn't sure what it was the Anzu Mazaki had made her feel. It had been a warmth, something to hold onto, but nothing she would want to poke deeper. There was much to love about Anzu Mazaki, and that was where it was left.

Mai had not cared much for Anzu in the beginning; she had not been in a place where she could admit to caring for people. But even then she could see the care Anzu held for the people around her. Love ran deep in her veins, and it was mixed with a passion that burned brighter than most stars.

There was not a cynical bone in Anzu Mazaki. It had been amusing at first to Mai.

Without a notice, Anzu had gotten under her skin, took a place in her life that Mai had not even realized had been vacant.

It was good to have friends, especially ones like Anzu. Mai had learned much from her, and from all of the others of Yugi's gang, and she would forever be grateful about that, about having known them.

It was not meant to be forever. Mai was not the type of person who could stay with the same people, who could stay still.

She said her goodbyes, and traveled. She saw the world, she searched for something, she did not know what, she did what she wanted, she lived her life. Thus passed years.

Mai had grown. She felt not the weight of years anymore, she did not fear the time that had passed. She had changed, yet stayed the same. The world still held the same curiosity, the same excitement for her. There was still much to see. There was still things to explore. And so she wound up in New York. She had heard of old friends, well, an old friend.

Anzu had tried to keep in touch, but there was much to see in the world, and Mai usually got her postcards a year or two late, and there was no doubt boundless others that she had missed completely. She felt it better that way. She knew enough. Anzu was happy, and that was the enough.

Almost enough. There was one thing more, Mai wanted to see Anzu dance. She had seen her fight for friends and for things that were right, she had seen the passion burning inside her. But Anzu was not a fighter, she did not want it. She fought because at the moment it was right thing to do.

She was a dancer. And Mai had never seen her dance.

Mai didn't go to New York to see Anzu dance. She wound up in New York as one often does on her way from one place to another. It was not her first time in New York, but it had been years. She booked a hotel room for few days. She was in no hurry.

She happened upon the advertisement on accident. There had been a bar in Broadway she had liked, but seemed to be unable to locate anymore, perhaps it had only ever existed in her mind, a combination of countless other bars she had been in over the years. Half an hour of wandering, completely lost and suddenly a familiar face caught her eye. She quickly crossed the street, and there she was, on a flier, front and center, her name written under it. She looked the same, and her smile was brilliant always.

The first thing that Mai felt in that moment was pride. So much pride. Anzu had come so far.

She gave up on finding the bar. Instead she took down the address of the theater and went to buy a ticket. There was a performance that evening, and she managed to get one of the last tickets. The theater was not big, but apparently it had a solid reputation and had a very passionate set of regulars.

She exited the theater with the precious ticket safe in her wallet. After that she just wandered. She had no direction, she merely took where the whim took her, turning a corner there, crossing the road here. She was lost in her memories of all that had passed all those years ago. The streets of New York blurred together for her, as she drifted aimlessly, stopping by a coffee shop to have a drink and then continuing on her way.

The evening couldn't come soon enough.

She felt excited and nervous waiting at the lobby of the theater. There was the same spark in her spine that she felt when she was about to enter a dueling ring. But it was also different, there was fear mixed in it.

She hadn't seen Anzu in years. What if it wouldn't feel like it did before? What if she had lost it, whatever it had been, that had made her so... important? It was a terrifying thought, and Mai tried to avoid it the best she could, by reading the brochure over and over, until finally they let her in.

Mai took her seat among the people. She held her breath when the lights came down. Finally the music started and Anzu stepped into the light.

She moved with a grace on the stage. The music was only thing in the world that owned her in that moment. In that moment, the whole world disappeared around her. She was happy. She lived the dream.

It had been years since Mai had seen Anzu last. She had grown even more beautiful. The grace and the sureness, the passion, all the things that had been there in the past tampered only by the naivety of youth were now out there for everyone to see.

There was still much to love about Anzu Mazaki.

* * *

Mai's legs were shaking when she finally stumbled out of the theater. And she felt so infinitely warm. Proud. Happy. Relieved, that even if other people around her were changing, there was someone who would stay. Someone who was happy.

Mai stuffed her hands into her pockets against the chill of the evening turned night. She would have been content to leave then and there, this had been enough, but then a whiff of white hair caught her eyes.

She was surprised she even recognized him. They had barely shared a word when they had spent time together, and this was one of those people she had not kept in contact with at all. She had not even thought about him in years.

But there he was. Ryou Bakura, same white hair, same brown eyes, though looking older. He was also exiting the same theater, wrapped in a long coat, pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket.

Curiosity got better of Mai, and she approached the boy, man now. He had grown as well. His face had lost some of the roundness, he carried himself straighter than he had all those years ago, but there was still something very same about Ryou Bakura, something like he wasn't completely present in this moment, a certain dreaminess, a certain sadness.

"Fancy meeting you here," Mai said, stepping in front of him. He stopped, blinked, and then realization dawned upon him.

"Mai," he said, although he still sounded a bit surprised on being approached. He turned to look at the theater behind him and then at Mai again: "Were you here for Anzu's performance as well?"

Mai nodded. She waited until he had gotten both of his gloves on, before starting to walk down the street. Ryou walked by her side, their steps soon settling to a comfortable pace, like this was something they had done before, despite the fact that this was the first time they had met in years, and the first time they had talked, just the two of them. Ryou turned a corner, and Mai followed, neither of them sure where they were going, if indeed they were going anywhere.

"And what might you be doing in New York?" Mai asked after a brief silence. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I am only visiting," Ryou said. "There's a seminar in town. I was invited."

"Seminar? Academics?"

Ryou nodded.

"Archaeology. Mostly in North Africa and Middle East."

"Sounds like a decent sort of life."

"I enjoy it. I get to travel, see new places. And you?" Ryou asked "Are you living in New York?"

"Oh no, visiting as well," Mai said. "I also travel. Odd jobs and tournaments. Make ends meet. That sort of stuff."

"So she doesn't know you're in town?" Ryou said.

"No, it was a spur of a moment thing," Mai said. "I saw her name on a poster and I just had to go check it out, you know?"

"Yes."

They were silent for a while, walking side by side, looking at the streets in front of them. Despite the late hour, New York was busy as ever. It didn't feel right for them, for they were just visitors, just wanderers here by accident. But the city was very much alive, and no doubt it was just made for someone like Anzu, so full of life as well.

Mai didn't ask if Ryou was planning on meeting Anzu later, or if Anzu had any idea that he was in town. She didn't think she would need to, she had a feeling she already knew the answer. There was something similar in both of them, a certain kind of uneasiness at a prospect of a settled life. Just wandering through their lives. Perhaps that what had drawn them to New York in the first place, perhaps that was why they had wound up in the theater. They needed something solid in their lives that was constantly moving, might as well be a dancer and an old friend.

"It makes me happy to see her dance," Ryou said suddenly, stealing a glance at Mai.

"Me too," Mai said.

Ryou smiled, actually smiled then. Mai was not sure if she had ever seen him smile, certainly she had never noticed it before. The whole situation was starting to feel slightly absurd; the two of them, acquaintances only by association, walking together in a strange city, talking about a woman who had no idea they were even in this side of the world.

It started to snow, and they said nothing more.

Finally Mai realized that their steps had taken them back to her hotel.

"I'm going to drop off here," she said. "I wish you the best of luck in your seminar."

"Thank you," Ryou said. "And I wish you the best in your travels. Perhaps we will meet again."

"Perhaps. Perhaps I will come see your digs in Africa. Or perhaps there will be another dance performance we both might want to see," she said with a smile. "Goodbye, Ryou Bakura."

"Goodbye Mai Kujaku," Ryou said.

She watched him disappear into the snow, a smile playing on her lips. She had a feeling that she would see him again. There was much to love about Anzu Mazaki, after all. The way she brought people together, for example.


End file.
